Well, here it is. Part 5. It will be the last part of this story. Fear not, any of you who might be unhappy at that statement - I'm working on a sequel. If all goes well this will end up being only the beginning of the "Any Path" trilogy. I'd like to extend my thanks to David and Nifty for archiving this story, and just generally being incredible. Thanks also to those who have written since part 4 to tell me they're enjoying it, including Neena, NGCFan, Ray, Lissa and Dennis. I never expected so much feedback, and I am grateful to you all for it. In addition to the stories I plugged in earlier parts, you should be reading: "Justin's Dark Angel", "Ghostly Hours", "Chances Are", "Best In Me", "Calming Waters" and "Hey Mickey". I'm loving them - maybe you will too. Legal stuff - I own none of this. Which makes me think maybe Santa isn't real after all. Not that they'll ever read this, but I'd like to say thank you also to the Backstreet Boys and 'Nsync for the adorable smiles, the lovely songs and the souls I've grown so fond of. You guys are the music of my heart. Ready? Here goes...
~Any Path~ by DaraLynn
PART FIVE
"The story of a love is not important - what is important is that one is capable of love. It is perhaps the only glimpse we are permitted of eternity." - Helen Hayes
~The Final Session, 2 weeks later~
Brian sat down in the familiar chair for the last time, feeling a slight pang of regret.
"Hello, Brian. It's been quite a while."
"Yeah. I won't be coming back again, Doc. I just wanted to come this last time to tell you a little about the last week...if that's okay."
"Please do!" Dr. Gorman said this with a bit more enthusiasm than he had intended. He had grown fond of Brian, and had been hoping for a miracle for the young man. A happy ending.
"Well, somehow Kevin and J.C. managed to get both of our groups a week off. We decided to rent a big house on the beach in the Bahamas and spend it together. That way, we could all spend some time together, and maybe even kill the rumors about us being enemies and rivals."
"You look as though the time off did you good."
It was true; Brian seemed more alert, less troubled - he had even gotten a nice tan. But, more importantly, he seemed much more content, as though he'd begun to make peace with himself.
The young man grinned. "Yeah. So did the company..." ------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I don't see how you can eat that stuff without syrup, Lance," A.J. observed, chomping on his fourth Pop-Tart.
Lance, neatly sprinkling powdered sugar on his French toast, shook his head. "I don't see how anyone can eat it any other way."
A.J. smiled good-naturedly. "Is everyone from Montana weird, or is it just you?"
"Mississippi. And that's a strange question, coming from you."
A.J.'s smile widened. //Maybe I will stop calling 'em 'Nstink,// he thought.
"And anyway, those Pop-Tart thingies aren't very healthy, you know. They have artificial colors and..."
//Never mind.//
A.J. shook his head sadly at Lance, and strolled over to the table, where J.C. was eating eggs and Justin was adding milk to a bowl of Apple Jacks.
"So. It is true about the cereal."
"So..." Justin looked up. "It is true about the sunglasses."
"Yep!" They spoke simultaneously, causing the whole kitchen to giggle.
"Where're Chris and Joey?" Lance asked.
J.C. answered. "They're blowing up this huge inflatable raft. They think they're gonna go floating from island to island."
"Neat! Like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. Hey, aren't they from your neck of the woods, Lance?"
The spikey-haired blond shook his head, a patient smile on his face. "Missouri."
A.J. looked at him apologetically. "Sorry, man."
"It's okay. You wanna see a trick?"
"A trick? You mean, like a magic trick?"
"Sort of." Lance moved over to the table, motioning A.J. closer.
Suddenly, in a loud burst, Lance sang, "Who's the leader of the club that's made for you and me?"
"M-I-C, K-E-Y, M-O-U-S-E!" Justin and J.C. shouted, not seeming to realize they were doing it. Afterwards, they seemed embarassed and glared evilly at Lance.
A.J., of course, found this hysterical. "Whoa! Nick's right! They're, like, totally programmed! You guys still wear the mouse ears, or what?"
"For your information," Justin replied, "we didn't wear mouse ears!"
This only made A.J. laugh harder.
"Okay," Justin continued, "Lance, why don't you sing the Poo-Fu song?"
"The what?" asked A.J.
J.C. stood up. "I'm gonna go talk to Brian. See you guys later."
J.C. left the sun-lit kitchen through the sliding glass doors and walked through the sparkling sand to where crystal-blue water met the beach.
He sat down quietly next to Brian, who seemed lost in his thoughts as he stared out at the horizon.
"This sand taken?"
Brian came out of his reverie, and smiled at his friend.
"Not at all."
"Do you always get depressed when you get a week off?"
"I'm not depressed. I'm just thinking too much, I guess. I meant to ask, how are the arrangements for leaving TransContinental going for you guys?"
"Slow. Probably won't happen till next year, if we end up going to court."
"Court?" Brian was surprised.
"Yeah. Letting you guys go was one thing - you had something big to threaten Lou with. He's not gonna let us go so easy. Apparently he's not willing to lose both of us, whatever we've got on him. There's no way we'd make it public what he did to Nick, and he knows it."
"Oh, man, Josh. I'm so sorry."
J.C. looked at him strangely. "Brian, please don't say that! I am so grateful to you guys for telling us so we can get away from that asshole. And we will, believe me. Just the thought of him doing anything to Justin..."
J.C.'s voice trailed off. His eyes stared blankly at the waves, unwilling or unable to vocalize the horror that might have been.
Brian's voice brought him back, speaking softly but with new-found certainty. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"
J.C. didn't seem surprised. "Yes."
He looked at Brian, and answered his friend's next question.
"No, Justin's not gay."
"Does he know?"
"How I feel? Uh-huh. Has for a while now. He's cool with it. I guess he and Nick have more in common than we thought, besides being the blond, blue-eyed babies of our groups."
"Yeah," Brian agreed. "You okay, Josh?"
"With this? It's hard. You can't control love. But if I had to hand my heart to someone, I'd pick Justin. Maybe he can't give me his in return, but I know he'd never break it."
Brian smiled gently, and put an arm around his friend's shoulders. "I know exactly what you mean. It's not really heartbreak, 'cause they do love us. Just not the same way."
"Precisely. When we get over them, if we ever do, we'll just have to learn to love all over again. Hopefully with people who want to be with us."
Brian laughed, and the sound echoed in the warm air. "It'll happen, Josh. Until then, if we had to be enamored of anyone who doesn't feel the same, it might as well be Justin and Nick. And we're lucky, you know? Two incredible, gorgeous, irreplaceable guys, and we have their love and friendship. For me, it's enough."
J.C.'s eyes glowed with soft fire, as they always did when he thought of Justin.
"Yeah. It's enough." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ~Final Session, continued~
Brian smiled gently, his eyes glowing too.
"And it is enough, Doctor. For now, at least."
Dr. Gorman sheepishly put aside the handkerchief he'd been using to wipe away escaped tears.
"It seems to me, Brian, that you've come to a point of reckoning with yourself."
"I think I have, Doc. And you know what I've found? I'm okay. I love, and I am loved. I'm as whole as I need to be right now.
"You know what else I did last week, Doc? I told my parents I'm gay."
"How did they react?" the doctor asked, leaning forward.
Brian laughed. "They said they're proud of me for telling them. They're fine with it! So now both my families know my secret. I don't have to carry it anymore. I feel...God, I feel alive again!"
Dr. Gorman felt joy in his heart for his young patient. "I'm so happy for you, Brian."
"Doc, I couldn't have gotten through this without you. Thank you so much."
He offered his hand, and the doctor shook it.
"My pleasure, Brian."
Suddenly, a loud horn honked impatiently outside.
"That's my ride. I'd better go."
"I'll walk you out."
"Cool."
The two men walked side by side, as though they'd known eachother for years, out to the back of the building. To Dr. Gorman's surprise, a familiar young man with blond hair waved to them from one of the cars in the nearly-empty lot. Brian and the doctor waved back.
"That's Nick. He insisted on driving me."
"He's doing well?"
"A lot better. Only one nightmare a week now, if that. He's just like the old Nicky again."
Dr. Gorman chuckled. "My daughter would be relieved. She has pictures of him plastered all over her walls."
"Really? Why didn't you say so? What's her name?"
"Elizabeth. Why?"
Brian held up one finger. "Hold on."
He jogged over to the car and spoke with Nick. A few minutes later, Brian ran back and handed a photograph to the psychiatrist.
"What's this?"
"Read it."
It was a professional photograph of Nick, with the golden-haired youth against a wall, offering a mischeivous grin. On it was written, "To Elizabeth, a very lucky girl. Love always, Nick Carter."
Dr. Gorman was touched. "She'll be ecstatic! Thank him for me."
"Actually, he wanted me to thank you. For helping his best friend."
"Anytime, Brian."
The two friends warmly shook hands again, and Brian ran to the car. As Nick cheerfully drove off (neglecting a stop sign or two), he turned to his friend.
"I'm glad that doc helped you so much. He must be as good as mine."
"Yep," Brian agreed. "Now, if only we could get A.J. into therapy..." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ~Epilogue~
Lawrence Gorman looked up from his book and smiled lovingly at his daughter. "It's past your bed-time, Lizzie."
The pretty brunette was still hugging the picture she'd received with shrieks of joy four hours earlier. "I know, Daddy. I just wanted to thank you again for the autograph. Jenny's gonna be soooo jealous!"
"I'm glad you like it."
"Daddy? Was Brian Littrell really one of your patients?" Elizabeth asked, wide-eyed.
Her father suddenly looked stern. "You're not supposed to know that, Lizzie."
"I know, I swore I wouldn't tell anyone, and I won't, honest! And I know you can't talk about anything he said. I just wanna know one thing..."
"What?"
Her small voice was hopeful, almost pleading. "Did you help him?"
Gorman's smile returned, softening his pensive face.
"Yes, honey. I think I did." ------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I don't see why we have to go get honey-roasted peanuts for A.J." Brian complained from the driver's seat.
Nick, in the passenger seat, shrugged. "With all the sugar he's had, it's better not to let him drive."
Brian grinned widely. "You're just as bad."
"I am not."
"Oh no, Mr. Hyperman? Kevin used to joke about slipping Valium into your Sprite. At least, I hope he was joking..."
Nick looked indignant. "I was young!"
"You still are."
"So are you."
"Yeah." Brian looked at his best friend contentedly. "At least, I feel young now."
Nick returned his smile. "I'm glad."
"Me too."
Brian felt a smaller hand take his, and he held it tightly before turning his attention back to the darkening road. He shook his head with amusement as Nick bounced in his seat with the energy of any five-year-old.
//That's part of what attracted me to Nick, I guess. His innocence, and his child-like sweetness. And then there's the playfulness, the maturity, the intelligence, loyalty and everything else. Qualities important in a love interest, yeah, but just as essential in a best friend.//
"Frick, you're staring again." The wry smile returned. "See something ya like?"
Brian nodded. "Someone I love."
Nick grinned. "I love you too, ya butt-head. Now drive, would ya?"
Breathing in the sweet night air, Brian did, as the sleepy street lights flickered on. The road was still dark, but Brian thought vaguely that he was glad to have found it, the road that would lead him forward, the path his heart had chosen.
THE END to be continued in an as-yet untitled sequel
So...was it okay? Answers welcome at DaraLynn_writings@hotmail.com or DaraLynn@altavista.com